At a Loss

My eldest son has had several "reaction paper" assignments to do for his health class this year. In the past, he had trouble coming up with ideas and topics for writing assignments because he is very literal and does not perceive himself as very creative. Lately he's been surprising me, and possibly himself. For instance, a few weeks ago he wrote about his recollection of and his reaction to a diabetic episode his father experienced -- too much insulin, not enough food, brain doesn't work, actions of said diabetic are unpredictable and possibly wild.

Earlier this week, he'd commented that his next reaction paper would describe his anticipation of going to my aunt and uncle's house for Thanksgiving, a tradition that dates back to my own childhood some forty blah blah years ago. All my kids love it. In my own mind, I thought, okay, he's going to describe the yummy food and the board games and the kickoff of holiday cartoons. And then I forgot about it temporarily.

Yesterday he brought it up again as I was visiting him in his room to say goodnight. He mentioned that he's going to describe how he never has felt that things were right again on Thanksgiving since my cousin's daughter passed away four years ago June. Whoa. I felt as though I'd been slapped across the face. He'd never said anything about this. I never knew he'd been thinking about it. He was eleven at the time of her passing.

I told him that he was absolutely correct; things were not "right" at all, and couldn't be. But it hurts a little bit less each year. Still feeling the lump in my throat, I also told him that I've observed his writing topics becoming more meaningful and emotional and real in the grown up sense. Gave him a long look. Didn't say I was exceptionally proud but I think he knew it.